Disclaimer: The
characters are not mine. They belong to Disney or whoever owns the
Rights to Pirates of the Caribbean. This is just for fun.

Summary: James and
Elizabeth go on a picnic just beyond Port Royal and run into a few
unexpected problems. Includes elements of a Regency romance. This
story is the sequel to "A Moment's Weakness".

Author's Note: I have
added a few aspects of modern day Jamaica, such as a few words and
foods, to help bring the tropical environment alive. All the
geological names mentioned in this story are true and exist near
where Port Royal used to be (an earthquake in 1692 put most of the
town under the sea). The Tainos are the first Jamaicans and were
already there when the British first arrived. And yes, I have done
research on Jamaica as to flora, fauna, wildlife, etc. This was
originally posted on LJ under a different account I opened there.

James Norrington rested
in bed, the room a comfortable darkness around him. Although the hour
was late, his heart was filled with joy and he kept replaying the
steamy kiss he had shared with Elizabeth up on the battlements of the
Fort. It was still hard for him to believe that she had chosen him
over Turner and that the romantic interlude was not just a dream.
Yes, it was reality and actually had happened. It was without doubt
the happiest day of his life. Although Elizabeth loved pirates and
their dashing ways, he was glad to see she possessed a practical
streak as well. The young blacksmith could never keep her in the
lifestyle she had grown accustomed to over the years, a lifestyle
that included servants, fine meals, new gowns on a regular basis so
she could attend social functions and all the other sundry things
that went along with high society. Port Royal wasn't London by any
means but even here in a town that was barely out of its colony
status there were standards. He doubted if Turner even had enough
coin to buy a cheep home on the outskirts of town.

Smiling, a hand resting
behind his head, James thought of the home he had bought in
preparation of asking for Elizabeth's hand. Although it wasn't as
large or grand as the Governor's house, it wasn't small, either.
It was well constructed and situated in a good area of town. Better
yet, the master bedroom had a grand view of the sparkling Caribbean
and was far closer to the sea than the house his future bride lived
in now. Having spent most of his life in the Navy, James doubted if
he'd ever be able to live far from the roaring tides or the salty
sea air. He had paid dearly for that but it was well worth it,
especially now that she had agreed to become his bride. He was
thankful now that his father had taught him the value of money and
how to save it for what he truly desired instead of fritting it away
carelessly on frivolous things. Better yet, he still had a large sum
in his bank and that would be needed for running a household.

A household. Those two
words more than anything remarked how real his dream was becoming.
Still, he needed to get to know his bride better and for she to know
him. He should take her out on a date so they could talk and grow
accustomed to the other. There were several fine restaurants in town
but somehow he thought the formal environment would chaff at the wild
streak that ran through her. Had she not asked him to be a pirate?

He sighed, his other
hand idly scratching an itch on his bare chest. How could he ever be
a pirate? Oh, he knew she didn't mean it literally but as a request
for less formal attitudes. Still, he had been in the Navy so long
that the formal behavior was practically a part of him and he doubted
if he'd be able to swagger around as freely as Sparrow and his
other compatriots. Still, he had to attempt it, be more relaxed in
her presence.

But the idea of where
he should take her still vexed him. He spent most of his time either
at sea or in the Fort. And some of the establishments that popped up
in town were hardly suitable for a lady. Rolling over onto his side,
he decided he would ask Gillette and Groves in the morning. Perhaps
between the three of them they'd think something up.

The morning came soon
enough and after a breakfast of ripe fruit, sausage and biscuits; the
three strolled along the wharf where the Navy ships were anchored.
James had his hands folded neatly behind his back as he paused to
gaze at the Dauntless. "I seem to have a problem that
requires your assistance. Advice would be much appreciated."

"What is the nature
of the problem?" Gillette inquired politely.

"I wish to take Miss
Swann on a date so we can get to know each other better, yet I feel
the formal environment of the posh restaurants in town are not wholly
agreeable to her nature." He admitted, frowning slightly. "Can
either of you suggest a less formal setting that would still be
appropriate for a young lady?"

"What of a picnic?"
Suggested Groves helpfully. "A picnic among the natural splendor of
this island?"

"Yes, I suppose that
may work." James agreed as he turned to face the other two men.
"But where exactly would I have this picnic? Much of the nearby
beaches are filled with common folk, fishing boats and the like. And
we all know sometimes unpleasant things get washed ashore. The last
thing I desire is for Miss Swann to step on a stinging jellyfish."

"Perhaps further
inland?" Gillette suggested. "I heard that the Rio Grande River
Valley is quite spectacular and it's not that far from here. It's
also supposed to be filled with native wildlife. Perhaps Miss Swann
would enjoy a trip to the country and a chance to see flora and fauna
up close?"

James considered the
matter seriously for a moment, his lips a straight line. Although he
was more familiar with sea charts, he did know that the Rio Grande
was the river that brought Port Royal its drinking water. The river
started somewhere high up in the Blue Mountains. The Blue Mountains
were the tallest mountains in all of Jamaica, reaching heights over
three thousand feet. Turning towards town, he could see their hazy
greenish form rising up in the far distance, like a squatting giant.
Most of the mountains were covered with forest, hence their green
color. The idea seemed plausible. He had no idea if Elizabeth had an
interest in looking at animals or learning their behavior, still, he
supposed it would be better than nothing. "I suppose it may work.
But what sort of animals are we speaking of? I must admit a lack of
knowledge as to native wildlife."

"Oh, there's
nothing dangerous on this island as far as I know." Gillette
admitted to his commanding officer. "When we first came out here to
Jamaica I asked around, having never been to the tropics before. The
tainos told me the largest native land animal is the coney,
a large type of rodent. It's similar to our hedgehog or so I heard.
But you're unlikely to encounter one in the river valley. You'll
mostly see birds there."

"Well, that doesn't
sound dangerous." James wondered if Elizabeth enjoyed bird
watching. Perhaps she did. It was a bit odd, but he truly knew
nothing of the young woman he was engaged to. "Still, it would be
highly improper for her and I to be out there alone. It would be
scandalous to say the least. Her reputation has been questioned
enough since she was kidnapped by pirates and was without a proper
chaperone, although she seems to unaware of the whispers."

"We could follow at a
distance, stay out of sight." Groves offered. "I wouldn't mind
seeing other areas of this island besides the Fort and the docks."

"That will have to
do, I suppose. It is agreed then, for this coming Saturday?" James
waited until they both nodded and then put his mind to planning the
outing. He would have to acquire a horse. A carriage would be more
suited to a lady traveling but no roads existed out that way he was
certain, certainly none appropriate for a carriage's wheels. Yet he
didn't think Elizabeth would be apposed to riding a horse with him.
Although he was no expert at equestation, he had a basic knowledge of
horsemanship. And the Fort owned horses the three could borrow for
the day.

000

Saturday rolled around
faster than James expected it to and he woke to an uneasy feeling in
his stomach; much akin to the nervousness he had felt at asking
Elizabeth for her hand in marriage. He had managed to clear the trip
with her father, pointing out the fact that Gillette and Groves would
be tagging along at a distance to supervise. The Governor had never
been out of Port Royal, either, and expressed his concern as to
dangerous beasts lurking out in the jungle. James had to smooth over
those fears as well, reassuring the portly man that Jamaica was not
Africa or India. Tigers or lions didn't lurk in the bushes waiting
to snack on his daughter and no he wouldn't snack, either.
His behavior would be totally honorable. Governor Swann had just
grinned and stated he trusted him like a son.

After washing and
dressing, James packed cheese, wine, fresh fruit, freshly baked
bread, sweet rolls, and fruit pastries into the saddlebags. He would
have liked to bring some baked chicken as well, but he worried it may
spoil on the ride out to the picnic site. Spring had arrived with a
sudden increase to the heat and humidity; not that the so-called
winter had been cold. It never grew cold here and it was often
unbearable wearing the multi-layer Navy uniforms, uniforms that had
been designed for a much cooler climate. Still, their picnic would
have to forgo any form of meat less it make Elizabeth sick. If that
happened her father would never forgive him. He also packed a blanket
to lay on the grass so Elizabeth wouldn't soil her dress with grass
stains. He would bring his telescope as well, in case she desired to
do some bird watching. Hooking water canteens onto the horse, he
smoothly swung up in the saddle and waved at his two waiting friends.

Leaning forward in the
saddle slightly, he signaled the horse to start walking. It's
hooves soon left the cobblestones of the Fort for the dirt road of
Port Royal. It was just after seven am and a few souls were out
sitting on their stoops eating breakfast, but mostly everyone was
still asleep. James knew the fishermen had been up hours ago and were
already about their work. Guiding the horse with light touches, he
soon had it walking up the path to the Governor's house. Glancing
behind, he was pleased to see that Gillette and Groves had vanished
from sight. Hopefully Elizabeth would be clueless to their presence.

Taking a deep breath to
calm his jangled nerves, James swung down and approached the door.
Gripping the knocker firmly, he wrapped and waited. The butler
answered and soon he was granted entrance. He passed through the
foyer and was shown a seat in the living room.

Upstairs, the Governor
was in Elizabeth's bedroom making certain she was properly attired
for the picnic in a fine gown of palest pink.

"Now Elizabeth,"
Governor Swann said to his daughter. "I want you to be on your best
behavior today with the Commodore. He is kind enough to take you on
this outing and you will act like the proper young lady you are. Is
that clear?"

"Yes, Father."
Elizabeth replied as her maid handed her a pink frilly parasol to
keep the sun off her delicate skin. "I assure you I will behave
appropriately."

"I should hope so!"
The Governor lightly gripped her arm and led her from her bedroom.
"And you will do as he says. It may be dangerous out there. If he
tells you not to go somewhere then do not go there. And please, don't
try to touch the wild animals! Who knows what horrid diseases they
carry…"

"Father, I'm not a
little girl anymore." Elizabeth rolled her eyes and started down
the staircase, her long skirts gripped in her hands and lifted
slightly. "And this is Jamaica, not the Serengeti. I survived the
kidnapping just fine, not to mention being stuck on that island…"

"Yes, I know. It's
just that little of that area has been explored…" The Governor
led her into the living room and they both greeted the Commodore
politely. "Now James, I trust you to take care of my daughter on
this trip? She has never ridden a horse and I take you will see she
doesn't fall off?"

"Of course,
Governor." James nodded to the elder man and held out his arm for
Elizabeth. Feeling her delicate hand grip his arm lightly, he started
for the door. "I will have her home before nightfall."

The Governor signaled
to the waiting footman and they followed the young couple outside,
the neatly dressed footman carrying a small wooden stepping stool.
The horse was still waiting there, it's reins held securely by the
Governor's stable boy. The silver bits between the leather bridle
and saddle sparkled in the morning sunlight. The horse itself was
white with expressive brown eyes with incredibly long lashes and was
of a riding breed. It was a calm and experienced steed, a good riding
horse of tranquil temperament; which was why James had chosen it. The
horse was a gelding, of course: a neutered male. Carefully
approaching the horse so it could see him, James gripped the saddle
horn and stuck his boot into the stirrup, swinging up and throwing
his other leg over the horse's back until he was properly seated in
the saddle. Holding onto the saddle horn with one hand, he held his
free hand down to his betrothed. "Elizabeth…"

The footman placed the
stepping stool onto the ground before the horse and readied to help
her up. "Miss.."

Uncertain as to how to
get up onto the horse, Elizabeth stepped onto the stool and gripped
James' hand. The footman gripped her around her waist and quickly
lifted her, placing her up on the horse behind the Commodore. But
something was amiss. Both her legs were on the same side of the horse
and her brown eyes widened in surprise. "You placed me up here
wrong."

"Elizabeth," the
Governor sighed. "As a lady you will ride sidesaddle, of course.
It's only proper."

"Can't I ride it
astride?" She asked innocently, hopefully. "I feel like I'm
going to fall off sitting this way."

The Governor's face
reddened. "Heavens no! That wouldn't be proper! I assure you many
women back in London ride horses perfectly fine just as your seated
now and they don't fall off. Just hang onto the Commodore and you
will be fine. And remember, never approach the horse from behind or
it may kick you."

James felt Elizabeth's
arm circle his waist and his heart leaped slightly in his chest, not
that any emotion showed on his face. If command in the Navy taught
him one thing it was how to keep his emotions under a tight rein.
During emergencies at sea, like extremely bad weather, the crew
looked up to the officers and one couldn't show fear less it
decrease the morale to dangerous levels or install panic. Such a
situation out at sea could be the difference between life and death.
Leaning forward slightly again, he ordered the horse into a slow
walk. Within moments the Governor's house was left behind and he
was alone with Elizabeth.

"So, where exactly
are we going?" Elizabeth's voice asked from behind him. He could
feel her weight resting partly against his back, her slim arm tight
around his waist and her hand pale against the dark blue of his Navy
jacket. The sun was still rising to their east and it cast long
shadows on the ground to the west of them. Elizabeth must have opened
her parasol for he could see its long handled shadow riding with
them. Relief flooded through him at the sight for it meant she must
feel secure enough on the horse to hold the parasol with her other
hand.

"We are going to the
Rio Grand River Valley for a picnic. I have heard it's a very
beautiful place although I've never been there." James admitted,
his posture perfectly straight on the horse and the reins loosely
gripped in one hand. As they rode along the dirt road, the buildings
on either side decreased in size and splendor. Gone were the
carefully kept homes with neat yards and tidy businesses with clean
premises that were found near the port. Here was where the poorer
people lived, some of them of questionable morals. Small ramshackle
huts lined the road now, many of them with assorted debris scattered
about the front yards. Loud calls came from the open door of a
questionable tavern and James frowned, as it was far to early to be
drinking strong spirits. Here and there the fast-growing tropical
plants were encroaching on man's claim on the land, a few tiny
palm-thatched houses dwarfed by lush vegetation. "Are you well,
Elizabeth?"

"Yes, I'm fine.
I've never been out of Port Royal before." She admitted honestly
as her eyes took in the poorer area of her town.

The river appeared to
their right, no longer hidden by buildings. Man's claim on the land
ended here or so it seemed. Nothing blocked the majestic sight of the
Blue Mountains rising up and up to meet the deepening blue sky and
James felt his breath hitch a little at the sight. Nature, when
viewed like this, was awe-inspiring. The air was much cleaner here;
free of the rank smell of human waste the poor section had sported.
The sweet scent of tropical flowers rode the wind currents, but above
all the air smelled of lush, green growth. Gently waving stalks of
sugar cane rose up on either side of them now as he led the gelding
along a narrow dirt trail running parallel to the Rio Grand. Sugar
cane was Jamaica's number one product and also it's crux problem,
for rum was made of fermented sugar. Realizing they must be riding
through some farmer's field, he was startled to feel Elizabeth
suddenly grip his shoulders with both hands and step on his foot.
"Elizabeth, what are…"

"There!" She
proclaimed happily as she cut his words off, her hands leaving his
shoulders. "That's much better."

Her chest was pressed
to his back as her hands encircled his waist, her thighs near his.
Exactly what she had done dawned in his mind and his green eyes
widened in surprise. "Elizabeth, this isn't exactly proper…"

"Oh, there's no one
out here!" She exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "I don't care if
some farmer sees us, do you? Besides, my back was starting to hurt
sitting that way…"

And although he
protested, James had to admit he secretly liked Elizabeth being this
close to him. Every tiny brush of her chest against his back sent a
little electrifying thrill through him. He felt her rest her head
against his shoulder and it pleased him to no end. Abruptly the sugar
cane field came to an end and a large expanse of open country was
before them, two towering green foothills rising up on either side of
the relatively flat valley before them. Tall grasses and reeds waved
with a sea-like rolling motion that seemed very odd, for how can
something on land mimic the sea so well? And Gillette had been right
about the birds. What seemed like thousands of birds dotted the
landscape before them, being of every size, shape and color.

"This is where we
will have our picnic." James informed his future bride, his voice
relaxed somewhat. Motion to the left caught his eye and he was
startled to see a slightly stooped man walking towards them. Dressed
in a sleeveless brown tunic of common weave, a floppy wide-brimmed
hat and plain cotton trousers, the Commodore quickly assessed this
must be one of the sugar cane farmers. The man's black eyes and
rich brown skin said Taino.

The farmer waved a hand
at them. "Chicken merry, hawk dah near."

Elizabeth's nose
wrinkled in confusion at his words and she turned to James. "What
did he say?"

"Something about a
chicken…" James replied, not understanding the Taino's
weird dialect. "These people have their own language and I do not
truly understand it. Perhaps he was offering us a chicken, but then I
do not see one."

Turning to regard the
gap-toothed farmer, the Commodore pointed to the bird filled field
before them. "Thank you for offering a chicken, but we have brought
our own picnic lunch."

Kicking his heels
against the horse slightly, he urged the beast forward. Dozens of
birds fled skyward, their loud cries drowning out everything else.
There was a slightly rounded hillock in the center of the valley,
near the river, and that was where they would have their picnic.
Military training taught the importance of high ground in a battle
and such training was almost instinct to James.

The farmer watched them
go and shook his head sadly, his wisdom lost on the young English
couple. Although the word "chicken" had been in his sentence, he
hadn't been offering them anything at all. His words were, in fact,
a warning of sorts.

Be vigilant as
danger can be found in unexpected places.

To be continued…

(The above phrase is a
common Jamaican proverb or saying.)

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.